


Galaxy

by Fanfic_is_a_sin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A few short bits about two dudes being in love, Depends on what you call smut, I say that, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, Well - Freeform, and having no idea how to handle it, mentions of sex but no actual smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 06:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13992300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfic_is_a_sin/pseuds/Fanfic_is_a_sin
Summary: Just go read the tags. I don't use them for tagging anyway.





	Galaxy

1.

Allura finds Shiro's old Garrison uniform in storage on the ship. She gives it to Keith, because she thinks it belongs to him. Shiro was smaller back then, cut from cleaner and more intentional lines. He had rough muscle and scar tissue chipped into him in the Arena, and they hadn't stopped fighting since. Keith, of course, doesn't know how to tell her, or him, and just folds it reverently under his cot. Shiro finds out only because Allura mentions having found it over dinner, and that Keith seemed surprised, but glad to have it back. She sees him frown from the head of the table, a place he hadn't escaped yet, and asks if he's okay. He looks at Keith and says yes. Keith won't look at him back.

It doesn't come up again for a while after that. Keith doesn't say anything, and Shiro doesn't want to be angry with him. He knows what this is about. Keith knows he would get rid of it. Keith knows it wouldn't fit him anymore. Keith remembers being on his knees in Shiro's office, looking up at his rank badges through promotions and telling him how hot it was that he wore the uniform and called Keith _cadet_. Keith knows Shiro won't be able to share a room with him if the uniform that he can't wear, can't be _fucking hot, Shiro, baby_ in, is there too. So he just wasn't going to mention it, and keep it for himself, and maybe one day when Shiro was better, when they were better, he'd pretend he found it laying around.

But Shiro isn't getting better. He's angry, and Keith has to know it. He hadn't been to Keith's room, or left the door to his unlocked, since Allura mentioned the uniform. And it was all worse, because they both knew each other well enough to have an argument without talking. Shiro knows why he kept it. Just the fact that he did, that he risked the fallout of keeping it so that it wouldn't be lost forever, makes Shiro want to be softer. But every day that passes with Shiro practicing with the training room on its highest settings and visualizing dead-- murdered enemies from the Arena while Keith just lets him seethe reminds him that he's got so little softness left. If the Galra came knocking, he couldn't afford not to be angry, because he certainly can't make himself forgive Keith enough to form Voltron.

2.

"You're not talking to me."

Shiro bends a fork, forgetting about the reaction strength of his hand. "We've been busy," he says.

"Don't do that," Keith snaps. "I'm trying to talk. You know it's hard."

Hard. Like Shiro is now. Bruising and painful. "Sorry," he says, but it's... hard.

"Don't to that either. I get why you're mad."

"But you don't want me to be."

"Of course not."

"Or sorry."

"No."

"What do you want from me then?" Shiro makes a mistake. He looks Keith right in the eyes, knowing Keith's trying hard to look back. Keith is hurt, and Shiro hurts for him deeper than he hurts for himself. But the pain doesn't make it easier. He knows he wants Keith to be okay, but that doesn't make him any better at doing what he knows will make him so. It's something he learned in the Arena. The right thing, the kind thing, and the loving thing all lost out to the necessary thing. And Shiro needs to be angry at Keith, because if the Galra came knocking, Keith needed him angry and working more than he needed him _soft. Your hair's soft, baby._ He used his rank to get Keith conditioner, back when he could fit in that uniform.

Keith crosses his arms and looks at the wall. "How do I make it better?"

It's out of his mouth before Shiro can stop it. "Get rid of it."

"No." Keith doesn't even hesitate.

Shiro stands up to leave. "Then don't bring it up again."

3.

Keith's door slides open, even though it's late, and Keith always keeps his door locked unless he's expecting company. Shiro almost resents that it does. It means Keith was still hoping, after weeks, that it'd be him who changed his mind. It also means that he can't leave now, and has to find out for himself whether he _has_ changed his mind. He walks inside.

"Shiro." Keith is awake. He never has slept well with an unlocked door. Probably for good reasons. He looks tired. He's been crying. Even after all this time, he's been crying.

_Are you crying? Keith, are you okay?_

_Don't stop. It's fine. I just. I love you._

_Oh._

_Don't stop._

_Alright, Cadet._

Damn him. Shiro takes a breath. "Give it to me."

Keith frowns. "Shiro, can we not do this right now? You might want it later, and--"

"Give. It. To. Me." Shiro tries desperately not to sound like he might throw punches.

Keith hesitates. New tears well in his eyes, but he pulls his blanket off and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He's just wearing boxers and an undershirt. That'd work. Slowly, Keith gets down, kneels, and pulls out the box. Shiro hears, more than feels, his metal fingers scrape each other as his fist curls too tight. Keith picks up the box and walks over. He holds it out. "Please," he says.

_Please._

_What?_

_Don't break the scene._

_Right. It's just, you've never been okay with._

_Please._

Shiro takes the box and pulls it away. Keith flinches. "Turn around," Shiro says.

"What?

"Turn around." He doesn't let his tone soften, but he makes sure his voice doesn't crack. "Cadet."

Keith's eyes widen. Slowly, he turns until his back is to Shiro. Shiro sets the box down. "Stay still. Stay still, Keith, or I don't know if I can do this again."

Keith nods.

Shiro reaches into the box and fishes out the pants first. His hand trembles. It's only nerves and bones and blood, be he doesn't trust the metal one not to tear the thing to shreds. He reaches around, and holds the pants in front of Keith, stopping painfully short of embracing him. "On," he says.

"What?"

"Put them on."

He can see Keith's face in his head,  scrunched in confusion. "They're too long," Keith manages.

"They'll fit you better than me now," Shiro replies, proud of how little his voice shakes.

With that, Keith seems to get it. He takes the pants from his hand. It takes him several tries, himself a shaking, quietly cursing mess, but he eventually gets them on. They are too long. Shiro kneels down, and, one by one, rolls the legs up into neat cuffs. Keith stands stiff as a board, his eyes screwed shut like he's afraid Shiro will stop touching him if he looks to make sure he actually is.

The boots come next, and Keith manages to get them on and not look too ridiculous, even though they're a few sizes too big. Then there's the jacket. The most recognizable part of the uniform. It still has his rank bars on it. He lifts it out of the box, fighting the resurgent urge to tear it in half and throw the pieces out of an airlock. Instead, he holds up up behind Keith.

"Arms," he says.

Keith slips his arms into the sleeves, and Shiro pulls the jacket onto his shoulders. Unlike the pants, it fits almost perfectly. Shiro can remember Keith wearing it a long time ago, making fun of him for making rank so much sooner than Keith did even though they were only a few years apart. It hung on him like he was made of wire back then. Shiro realizes now just how much they've both changed. When he comes around the front of his boyfriend, Keith is crying.

"You'll get the uniform wet, Cadet," Shiro whispers.

Keith looks up at him, and his lips tremble their way into a smile. "Wouldn't be the first time," he murmurs.

"No," Shiro agrees. He starts in with the buttons. His hands are shaking, but so is Keith, so all he can do is hope that the long time it takes to get through the buttons will give them both time to steady themselves.

"Shiro," Keith says, when he reaches the top button. "Your hand."

"Sorry," Shiro mutters.

"No," Keith insists. He looks down pointedly. "Your _hand_."

And then Shiro sees it. His metal hand is trembling, too. It's never done that before. It was built with stabilizers and inertia controls, to keep it efficient and deadly in combat. Another reminder of just how inhuman it was. But here it was, trembling just like the old one did when Shiro first tried to put this uniform on himself. He was proud to be an officer, sure, but promotion also got him his first official date with Keith.

"It's alright," he says. He adjusts the uniform with a tug here and there, and then looks at Keith. He was beautiful.

Keith searched his face for some clue as to what this all meant. Shiro heard him sigh with relief at what he found there, and knew they'd made it through. Shiro had smiled. A soft smile. The right smile. "I'm sorry I kept it," Keith finally said.

"I'm not," Shiro replied. "I wish you'd talked to me about it, but I'm not sorry. It should be yours. After all, you're not a cadet anymore."

Keith fell into his arms, and their lips met. Before long, their hands were moving, and Shiro's fingers slipped past the waistband of the uniform pants.

He'd always been proud to defend the galaxy, all else aside. In Keith, though, he found more to be than proud. When he was angry, or hurt, or broken, or too hard to remember the kindness that had gotten him through his worst moments, he could always hope to be okay, because he had Keith. Keith was his own galaxy, a burning sea of stars and planets washing over him like the memory of rain. When things got bad, he could dip his fingers in, and metal or not, paint them a little more human.


End file.
